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by myn_x



Series: SASO 2017 Bonus Round Fills [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dildos, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Size Difference, rip hinata in pieces, safe sex is cool, ushijima wakatoshi has a big dick, ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 08:43:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11574522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myn_x/pseuds/myn_x
Summary: Hinata knows Wakatoshi's trepidation doesn’t stem from a lack of desire. It's a part of his commitment to protecting Hinata, even from himself.But Hinata can be very convincing, much to Wakatoshi's detriment.





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**Author's Note:**

> written for a brilliant saso 2017 br4 prompt --> [x](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/23665.html?thread=14419825#cmt14419825)
> 
> fun fact: i was so blindsided by hung ushijima that i forgot hinata had a dick too. a BIG thank you to [lena](https://aoneshouyou.tumblr.com) for reminding me :x
> 
> another fun fact: this was almost called go big or go home

Hinata's morning sneak attacks have never been easy for Wakatoshi to resist -- once Hinata pounces, Wakatoshi finds himself unable to do anything other than succumb his dogged persistence. Hinata knows it, and Wakatoshi knows that Hinata knows it.

So when Hinata pulls Wakatoshi's cock into his mouth and massages the base with deft fingers without so much as a "good morning," Wakatoshi feels his composure slip, and a soft curse breaks on his lips as Hinata tries his damnedest to swallow him down.

After countless mornings waking up to blow jobs since they’d moved in together, Wakatoshi came to the conclusion that Hinata had his timing down to a science. Yet Wakatoshi can never properly anticipate when he’ll jump him like this, even though he nearly always waits until Wakatoshi's half asleep or otherwise defenseless and would give him anything -- he wants to give him _everything_ , right now.

Even with almost routine practice, Hinata can only fit little more than half of Wakatoshi’s dick into his mouth, but he bobs his head and tongues the foreskin and fists his hand over what he can't take like he's got everything to prove, moaning around him shamelessly. Hinata is a noisy little thing, and a messy one, and the spit that coats fingers makes the glide of his hand that much smoother. Hinata curls his unoccupied fingers around himself with practiced eased, palming his own shaft to a hastier rhythm.

When it’s as good as it is, Wakatoshi wonders why it isn’t as easy to give Hinata what he so desperately wants. Hinata tilts his head up at Wakatoshi and pierces him with that glowing look, mouth pulled taut as it stretches to accommodate his girth, and Wakatoshi wants to cave under the wicked, glittery intent in Hinata's hooded eyes.

But he doesn't. Wakatoshi digs his fingers into soft, unruly hair, but he wills away the urge to roll his hips and watch himself disappear into Hinata’s mouth, letting Hinata set the rhythm and depth of pull and drag around his length.

 _It would not be prudent or polite to make your boyfriend choke to death on your dick_. Even when, with every sloppy pass of his tongue and lips and not-so-subtle hint of teeth, Hinata tells him, _Please, more, I can take more, I_ want _more, more, more_ , just like every other time he takes Wakatoshi with his mouth.

Wakatoshi recognizes that he can be a little slow on the uptake, but he isn’t with things like this, not when he’s never had to ask for head. Subtlety was never Hinata’s forte, and it makes Wakatoshi crumble a little bit more, how giving Hinata is, even if it is (at least partially) self-serving.

Hinata hollows his cheeks and curls his tongue over the slit before pulling off with a wet smack to catch his breath, and Wakatoshi barely stifles a groan at the loss of warm, velvety suction, which he’s starting to suspect is another of Hinata’s hints.

“Stop thinking so much,” Hinata murmurs, voice thick. “That’s kinda the whole point of me doing this, you know.”

He sinks his mouth over Wakatoshi again, but Wakatoshi pulls him off and catches Hinata’s swollen lower lip under his thumb, spreading the mixture of saliva and precome, briefly considering before he takes hold of Hinata -- who yelps indignantly -- under his arms and drags him up to crush a bruising kiss to his slippery mouth.

“You are wearing me down,” Wakatoshi says after he pulls away, and he flips a breathless Hinata onto the sheets and hovers over him, caging him underneath, forearms on either side of his face, their bare skin sticky in the early morning heat.

“I wanna -- oomph -- Waka _toshi_ , would you let me --  I wanna -- fu -- hnnn -- want you to -- fuck me -- _please_ ,” Hinata barely manages between Wakatoshi’s kisses, and Wakatoshi almost chuckles at his insatiable need.

He rolls on top of Hinata, their cocks dragging against each other in the negligible space between their hips. “Are we not making love right now, at your behest?” He keeps his voice low and gritty -- just as the little hellion is quick to exploit Wakatoshi’s abundance of weaknesses, Wakatoshi has a few of his own aces up his sleeve -- and achieves the desired effect.  

Hinata blushes, hard, and the crimson stain of it reaches his chest and shoulders. “You know what I _mean_ , Bakatoshi. I want to feel you _inside_ me.”

Wakatoshi grinds him into the sheets and kisses him quiet instead of responding, but then he pulls away to trail his lips over the cut of Hinata’s jaw and down the column of his neck and over the freckles on his chest, marveling at the tiny, lithe beauty beneath his hands, at how Hinata’s skin disappears under his touch. The splay of Wakatoshi’s hands against Hinata’s chest, the thrum of Hinata’s heartbeat, and the feel of his ribcage expanding with each shuddered breath as Wakatoshi traces a path from sternum to hip, are nothing short of mesmerizing.

 

~

 

The first time, Hinata had crowed gleefully when Wakatoshi undressed, humming with  eagerness as he’d wrapped trembling, reverent hands around thick, pulsing flesh, stroking one lazy finger from curly base to leaking tip. He’d cupped his balls, too, and nearly made Wakatoshi bite his own tongue off. Hinata had _uwahhh_ -ed as he palmed him, pupils blown wide as he drank Wakatoshi in and mapped out every inch of his cock.

 _Of course_ Hinata hadn’t been intimidated. But Wakatoshi never would’ve...he couldn’t have anticipated Hinata’s outright giddiness.  

Wakatoshi had always been acutely aware that he was well-endowed, but he had found that he was especially massive when juxtaposed against the smallness of Hinata’s hands. Wakatoshi had spilled messily within minutes, watching Hinata’s lubed fingers work over him, far from able to hold him all at once. He’d need another hand and a half, maybe, to come even close.

Before they even started dating, Wakatoshi resolved that he could never fuck Hinata, not like that, no matter how much they both wanted it. Which was, inconveniently, a hell of a lot. Their first encounter only solidified his conviction, and afterwards he had enthusiastically reciprocated with his mouth before Hinata could protest and ask for something more dangerous.

From that point on, Wakatoshi gave what he was comfortable with giving, and Hinata begrudgingly accepted, though he made it clear where his own stance was on the matter.

“It’s _my_ ass,” he never failed to remind Wakatoshi, rutting back against his crotch for unneeded emphasis. “And you won’t hurt me.”  

And he was right, in a fashion. Wakatoshi _wouldn’t_ hurt Hinata, not even unintentionally.

When Wakatoshi had let up and they’d progressed to fingering, Hinata was still greedy, though it was hard for Wakatoshi to keep going and use both his index and middle fingers when it was obvious that more than one was past too much, even when Hinata begged him for more through the tears.

Eating him out had appeased him, but not for long.

 

~

 

The mere idea of intimacy bringing any sort of pain to Hinata makes Wakatoshi balk, so he listens to Hinata’s body even when Hinata won’t, gives up ground when he can -- for both their sakes -- and endures the pull in his gut that compels him to fuck Hinata senseless.

“It’d be a good way to die. It’s how I’d prefer it, actually! Being impaled by you would be worth it.” Hinata had been flippant, but there’d also been that intense look in his eyes that he got when he decided he wanted something, and was going to get it.

But Wakatoshi can’t conceive of a way of giving Hinata what he truly wants without it resulting in some sort of serious injury. Which is unacceptable.

 

~

 

As much as Wakatoshi hopes to remain inflexible on the topic of anal penetration, he can only sit back and watch as Hinata whittles away at his resolve. It’s probably less whittling and more accurately outright sabotage, but he’d rather not dwell too much on the rapidly increasing number of chinks in his armor.

Hinata’s scheming knocks the breath out of Wakatoshi one night as they get ready for bed. While Wakatoshi sheds his work clothes and separates some laundry, he notices that Hinata takes a suspiciously long time in the bathroom.

At first, he assumes that Hinata is using up the hot water to get back at him for squeezing his ass on the train, where “there are people, you exhibitionist!” (Wakatoshi was “only holding him steady,” though Hinata was right to assume otherwise), but when the water cuts off and Wakatoshi hears a low whimper, he stills, his body reacting to the sound more quickly than his mind does.

He doesn’t move again until the bathroom door cracks open a few minutes later, unleashing a cloud of steam and a naked, still very wet Hinata, who sashays to the bed and gracelessly flops onto his stomach.

“You didn’t dry off,” Wakatoshi starts, fumbling for a towel, but he stops short when Hinata pushes back and arches off the bed, spreading his legs and squeezing a round cheek with one hand, his other fingers dipping to circle his exposed hole.

Wakatoshi groans when two fingers sink inside with no trouble, his boxers doing a poor job of concealing how Hinata’s little show is affecting him. When a third joins the pair curling in and out of Hinata, the easy slide belying the lube he must have swiped when Wakatoshi wasn’t looking, Wakatoshi swears throatily, and it reminds Hinata of his audience.

“I need you so badly,” he breathes, the pace of his fingers quickening as he locks eyes with Wakatoshi.

“Shouyou, I _can’t_.” Wakatoshi’s voice cracks under the strain. He doesn’t dare move from where he’s standing by the closet -- two, no, just one step and he’d be on Hinata, and then they’d take turns swallowing each other whole, and Wakatoshi knew he would not be able to stop until he gave Hinata exactly what he hungered for, everything that Wakatoshi wanted to be able to give freely.

“Can’t you or won’t you?” Hinata bites out, withdrawing his hand. There’s no bitterness behind his question; only the barest hint of disappointment tinges Hinata’s words blue.

Wakatoshi opens his mouth to respond but hesitates. Hinata knows Wakatoshi's trepidation doesn’t stem from a lack of desire, as Wakatoshi, and his dick, remind him almost constantly. Neither is it a secret that Wakatoshi wants to indulge him just as badly. But his restraint is a part of his commitment to protecting Hinata, even from himself, and Wakatoshi tells him so.

Hinata accepts his words with a slow nod, and for now, Wakatoshi retreats to the relative safety of the humid bathroom.

 

~

 

A cold shower doesn’t help, and Wakatoshi takes himself in hand and squeezes, mind wandering to forbidden places, like how tight and hot Hinata would feel around him, what kind of sounds Hinata would make when he first pushes into him and slowly sinks inside bit by bit, the scratches he'd end up with on his back. He comes when he thinks of Hinata pulsating around him, and how he’d have to probably have to carry Hinata everywhere, after, but his pleasure is short-lived once he realizes his hand isn’t good enough. It never has been, and the silent truth of it makes his jaw click in frustration.  

Wakatoshi wraps a towel around his waist and grabs the bottle of lube from the bathroom counter to return it to their bedside table. His grip on it turns white-knuckled when he steps out of the bathroom and finds Hinata fucking himself on his fingers with his perky ass in the air, hard and fast enough that he gasps as he pushes back to meet each thrust. His pretty pink cock drips precome down his leg and onto the sheets with every buck of his hips.  

The desperation in Hinata’s voice makes Wakatoshi abandon the towel and propels him forward, his palm smoothing over the dip in Hinata’s lower back as he settles next to him on the bed. He massages the damp skin there and eases Hinata’s fingers from his ass, then pulls him so that he’s bent over his lap, a hiss escaping Hinata’s lips when his arousal brushes against Wakatoshi’s thigh.

Wakatoshi opens the lube with his teeth and drizzle some over Hinata’s ass before closing and tossing it to the side. “Is this okay?” he asks, needing Hinata to give him permission to yield to him in this small way.

“ _Please_ ,” Hinata croaks, shuddering when Wakatoshi massages the lube into his skin.

He could take better care of Hinata if he ate him out, but Wakatoshi senses that Hinata needs something deeper and fuller than what he can offer with his tongue; the urgency with which Hinata craves more reminds Wakatoshi of his own realization that rutting into his hand will never be enough.

Cursing the cruelty of biology and fate, Wakatoshi circles the pads of his fingers over Hinata’s rim before sinking his middle finger inside him. Hinata jolts and Wakatoshi immediately stills, but Hinata mewls and pushes back against him, his hips wiggling in Wakatoshi’s lap. Wakatoshi relaxes and crooks his finger, thrusting gently, unsurprised to find some give. He smirks and tentatively presses in his index along with the first, massaging and scissoring until his fingers slip in and out of Hinata effortlessly, the silky, wet glide sending tremors across Hinata’s skin.

“Relax for me, Shouyou.” Wakatoshi tries to distract Hinata from the discomfort of adding the tip of another finger by rubbing circles into his back with his free hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Full, feels so good,” Hinata croons. He ruts in Wakatoshi’s lap, trying to get friction against his cock.

A sound of approval rumbles in Wakatoshi’s chest, and he grows half hard at the way Hinata’s hole sucks him back in at every outward drag of his fingers, how he’s torn between meeting Wakatoshi’s thrusts and grinding against his thighs. Wakatoshi pours more lube one-handed and massages Hinata’s rim, and Hinata fists his hands into the sheets, his body quivering like a taut bowstring. His broken moans turn into a continuous sob as Wakatoshi works his fingers against his walls, his free hand anchoring Hinata in place when his legs start to tremble.

(It wouldn’t be the first time Hinata accidentally kicked him when they were messing around, but Wakatoshi would prefer to not have to explain to his coworkers how he managed to get a black eye again.)  

Wakatoshi plunges and twists his fingers as deep as Hinata can tolerate, and Hinata comes with a cry that starts as Wakatoshi’s name but finishes on a string of curses. His body shakes as he rides out his orgasm in Wakatoshi’s lap, and Wakatoshi looks down at him in wonder, feeling nothing but love for the little sex demon he just fingerfucked into incoherency.

“What,” Wakatoshi starts when Hinata rolls off of him and collapses in a sweaty heap, “am I going to do with you?”

It takes some effort, but Hinata replies, “I have at least one idea. It starts with ‘fuck’ and ends with ‘me.’” He has to turn his head so the sheets don’t muffle his voice, but it’s about all the movement he can muster. His tone is teasing, but underlying his jesting is a renewed note of sincerity, as well as a triumphant ring of satisfaction.

 _He's spoiled, you are spoiling him, Wakatoshi_. He wipes his hand off on the sheets and quirks a brow at the stripes of come on his thighs. “Will you terrorize me forever, Hinata Shouyou?”

“I’ve already told you how to make me stop,” he sing-songs.

“I feel like even if I did give in to you, you’d somehow still want more.” Wakatoshi bends to plant a kiss on Hinata’s sweaty forehead. “I’ll carry you to the bathroom. I can wipe off, but you could use another shower.”

“You know I don’t care about the mess. Let’s just sleep.”

“Yes, I know, but you reek.” Wakatoshi continues talking over Hinata’s indignant squawk. “I also need to change the bedding.”

“We can change it in the morning,” Hinata says. And then he exaggerates a snore, curling into a tiny ball, as if that didn’t make it even easier for Wakatoshi to scoop him up and whisk him away to the bathroom.  

Wakatoshi stands and tugs at the sheets, but Hinata doesn’t budge, still feigning sleep. A rush of warmth swoops through Wakatoshi's chest. Hinata's theatrics are always so unbelievably _cute_.  

“You don’t have to do anything other than cooperate...for once.”

Hinata peeks over his bicep and meets Wakatoshi’s small, amused grin with a glare. “If I have to shower, then so do you.”

“Okay.”

 

~

 

Hinata obliterates the last of Wakatoshi’s resistance in one fell swoop the following week.

To have come so far only to be taken apart so thoroughly by the sight of Hinata fucking himself on a considerably large purple dildo is quite chastening.

Wakatoshi stands transfixed, his work satchel falling to his feet as he follows the smooth lines of Hinata’s taut body, his eyes catching on the tense-relax, tense-relax of Hinata’s back, leg, and ass muscles as he moves over the toy in the center of their bed.

 _Well, fuck_.

“ _Wakatoshi_ ,” Hinata breathes.

Wakatoshi is almost sure Hinata isn’t lucid enough to have heard his bag hit the floor. He doesn’t think Hinata would’ve said his name like that -- breaking into a moan on every syllable -- if he knew he was watching him.

The wet, sticky noises, the ragged sound of Hinata’s breathing -- all of it, really, goes straight to Wakatoshi’s groin. His cock twitches and he can already feel a damp spot in his underwear.

Hinata sits with his back to the doorway and his shins folded underneath him, and he leverages himself up and down over the girth of the silicone with his legs, nearly sinking to the hilt with every downward thrust. Then he leans forward, bracing himself on one forearm, and the glistening toy takes a century to slide out until only the tip is inside him.

Wakatoshi vaguely remembers a bit of a conversation they’d had the previous week.

_“I’m small, but I know I can take you.”_

_“How can you know for certain?”_

_“Well, um, I was online the other day because Tendou suggested... you know how we got that credit card? I went ahead used it to buy myself...a little something. It’s not_ too _expensive, so don’t worry!”_

Hinata draws Wakatoshi back to the present with a shrill moan and a sultry look thrown over his shoulder as he eases back down on the dildo. His eyes are glazed-over and half-lidded, and his very kissable mouth hangs open as he whimpers, his back shuddering as he stirs his hips with the toy deep inside him. He drags the plumpness of his bottom lip between his teeth to stifle another whimper, his skin glistening with sweat, his rumpled, damp hair clinging to his temples and the back of his neck.

Even from where he stands across the room, Wakatoshi can see where Hinata’s rim spreads around the dildo, and he’s entranced by how he takes it, its purple length and girth disappearing into his tiny body like some kinky magic trick.

“See? I can take it,” Hinata says, his breaths short and heavy. “I can take _more_. I'm not going to, _hah_ , break!”

A sudden and crushing desire to be the reason for the curl in Hinata’s toes, that wrecked look on his face, those cracks in his voice, draws Wakatoshi forward, his gaze fixed on Hinata as he loosens his tie and shucks off his jacket, shirt, and pants.

“You,” Wakatoshi starts, ignoring the catch in his voice, “are _hell-bent_ on driving me insane.”

“No, I just really, really want you to fuck me,” Hinata retorts breathlessly. He slams down onto the dildo and cries out, the arch in his back deepening as he gasps.

Wakatoshi rushes forward and climbs onto the bed, positioning himself so that his chest is pressed to Hinata’s back, arms wrapping around him to hold him steady. “Take it easy, Shouyou,” he warns.

“It’s, it’s okay. I prepped and everything. It’s fine, I’m fine.” Hinata rambles.

He trembles in Wakatoshi’s embrace, and Wakatoshi searches him for injury, not stopping until he’s satisfied that Hinata is in one piece. Bent over Hinata, engulfing him, he tongues his neck while he flicks his thumbs over his nipples, smoothes his hands over his abdomen, skates them over his hips, which dance under his touch, and slide them down his thighs, denying him for a moment as he watches his cock jump with every drag of his calloused palms. It curves slightly to the right -- a characteristic that always makes Wakatoshi smirk -- and is flushed a pretty shade of red as he leaks rivulets of precome.

“You’re so wet for me, Shouyou.” Wakatoshi finally wraps his left hand around Hinata’s length, so different from the weighty thickness of his own, and his right dips to where Hinata’s still split over the dildo, fingers brushing his rim.

Hinata lets out a choked moan and nearly jolts out of Wakatoshi’s grasp and off the toy, the head catching at his rim as he squirms. “I want you instead,” he whines, easing off completely. He turns to kiss Wakatoshi, who’s knocked breathless at the intensity of it, one small hand reaching to clamp around the back of his neck. Facing each other on their knees, their thighs brush together, Hinata’s bare legs against Wakatoshi’s ever-tightening underwear.   

Wakatoshi fits his hands over Hinata’s hips, still amazed that his fingertips nearly meet. “Are you sure?”

“Ah, fuck.” Hinata rests his head against Wakatoshi’s chest, huffing a quiet, warm laugh against his skin. “I thought I’d finally convinced you.”

“I’m not sure you understand how difficult it is to resist you,” Wakatoshi growls from between gritted teeth. “How difficult it is to refuse you when you’re like this.” He punctuates _this_ with two fingers at Hinata’s relaxed hole, dipping in for a moment before withdrawing.

“So stop resisting, Toshi-Toshi,” Hinata moans, affecting that wrecked tone that nearly did Wakatoshi when he’d walked in and every reason he had for not giving in flew out the door.

Wakatoshi isn’t afraid of much, but he doesn’t like uncertainty. Though Hinata is every inch an unstoppable force, Wakatoshi is by no means the immovable object he’d pretended to be up until this point.

 _Stop thinking so much,_ Hinata had told him before, so he focuses on the hummingbird thrum of Hinata’s heartbeat, the velvet plushness of his lips, the greedy curl of his tongue against the roof of his mouth, the way his skin jumps as Hinata slides his hands beneath his undershirt, breaking the kiss to pull it off. He lets Hinata push him down and climb on top of him, grunting when he grinds over the tent in his briefs. If this is what losing control feels like...the thought trails off into nothing when Hinata trails wet kisses down his neck, nipping at his skin lightly, and Wakatoshi closes his eyes against the shivers that Hinata coaxes from him with his lips.

Then hands are at the waistband of his underwear, drawing them off, and Wakatoshi looks down at Hinata as he frees his dick, and he grows even harder when Hinata straddles his thighs, shaking as he hovers over him. Hinata tips his head back and he sways a little, like he’s drunk, before looking down at Wakatoshi with black, heavy-lidded eyes as he grips his cock and moves forward and lowers his hips.

Protective instinct supersedes lust, and Wakatoshi grabs Hinata’s waist to stop him from sinking down, thumbs brushing lightly over the juts of his hipbones. The moment feels fragile, like time might snap.

A condom, they need a condom. It will likely be painful enough as is, and Hinata won’t want to move afterward, even to take care of the mess. Wakatoshi reaches for the bedside table, dragging Hinata with him, fumbling around in the drawer until he finds the box. He opens it, takes one out, and makes to rip the foil open with his teeth before Hinata wraps his fingers around his wrist to still him.

“Can I.” Hinata gulps, eyes darting from Wakatoshi’s face to the condom. “Can I put it on?”

Wakatoshi hands him the lube too, and Hinata quickly strokes a slick hand over him before he rolls the condom on with practiced ease. Though his actions are quick and deliberate, his hands tremble slightly, and Wakatoshi pulls him up to meet his dark gaze.

He brushes Hinata’s sweaty hair from his forehead and looks intently into his eyes. “Go slowly, Shouyou, or we will stop. And if you need to stop, we can.”  

Hinata nods without complaint as he reaches back to apply more lube to Wakatoshi’s cock over the condom. His mouth falls into a perfect little o as he settles back down over Wakatoshi’s hips, the tip sliding over his hole. He spreads himself with both hands, and Wakatoshi holds himself steady and watches unblinkingly as Hinata sinks down.

Wakatoshi feels hot, feverish, like his blood has turned to molten lava, the drum of his heartbeat like thunder in his ears, and he thinks, _This is it. This is how I’m going to die. Shouyou was right. It is more than worth it._ Hinata takes about a third of his cock before he stills, his chest heaving as he adjusts to the fullness.  

It’s better that it happens this way, Wakatoshi thinks, with Hinata on top because he doesn’t know how he’d be able to control himself, not with this pulsing, vise-like heat around him that’s so much better than he’d imagined, even though he’s still a ways from being fully sheathed. But it still takes all the effort in the universe not to thrust up into Hinata and watch his tiny, elfin body fall to pieces around his cock.

With a gasp, Hinata pushes down, hands scrambling against Wakatoshi’s abs helplessly. The space between his brows is scrunched, but his jaw is relaxed, and he moans on each exhale.

Wakatoshi feels just as overwhelmed, the meat of one thumb between his teeth and his other hand pressing bruises into Hinata’s hip.

They both swear when Hinata rolls his hips and Wakatoshi slips deeper, until he’s half buried inside of him.  

“Perhaps I have doubted your...capabilities beyond what was reasonable,” Wakatoshi chokes out. 

Hinata snorts, but it melts into a moan when Wakatoshi grinds into him, sliding in another half inch. “You should know better by now than to, _oh_ , than to doubt me.

“Hush. Concentrate,” Wakatoshi hisses, pushing himself up on one elbow. He shifts until he’s sitting up against the headboard, Hinata squirming and still mostly impaled on his cock. Hinata’s knees settle on the bed on either side of Wakatoshi’s hips, and he ruts experimentally, his excited giggle ending on a keen as Wakatoshi presses deeper with the new position. 

Gripping Wakatoshi’s shoulders hard enough to leave prints, Hinata rides him until his ass nearly is flush with Wakatoshi’s pelvis on every downward thrust. His cock drips onto Wakatoshi’s stomach, but Wakatoshi’s hands are melded to Hinata’s waist, gently aiding his rhythm. He’s stretched enough from the toy that it doesn’t take long for him sink to the hilt, with pauses every few minutes to let himself accommodate the new depth. With a heave that rips a scream from his throat, Hinata slams down onto him and comes untouched, cum dribbling down his cock, thighs quaking around Wakatoshi, fingernails dragging hard enough to draw blood.  

Wakatoshi nearly loses himself, but manages to wait long enough for Hinata to catch his breath before moving beneath him,  fucking up and into him, praises falling from his lips as his strokes dissolve into erratic jerks of his hips.

“You are relentless.” The slap of skin on skin punctuates every syllable, and with each thrust Hinata cries out, and Wakatoshi listens for signs that Hinata is in pain but all he can detect in the cracks in his voice is heady bliss.

He comes hard, in thick bursts, both hands in a bruising grip around Hinata’s waist, hips stuttering as he fucks Hinata through the overwhelming rush. His eyes sting with the sudden prick of tears, and before he can gasp out an apology, Hinata cups his cheeks and kisses him, lingering and deep.

 

~

 

Wakatoshi was right to assume Hinata wouldn’t move. He couldn’t, not even if he wanted to, not even to go get the last meat bun in Japan.

After using a warm towel to wipe Hinata down and applying a salve to his new bruises, Wakatoshi tucks Hinata against his chest. He’s quiet for once, except for his happy, tuneless hum. He fits against Wakatoshi perfectly.

“Thank you,” Hinata whispers.

Wakatoshi kisses the top of his head in reply.

 

~

 

"What's up with your chibi boyfriend, Wakatoshi-kun?" Tendou squints at Hinata with the intensity of a man trying to will concrete to flight.

Wakatoshi fixes Tendou with an impassive look, though his cheeks flush at the sight of Hinata getting out of the car on noticeably unsteady legs.  
  
"Don't tell me you finally did it,” Tendou says, his voice heavy with disbelief. He tilts his head and quirks a brow at Wakatoshi. "I'm serious. Don't tell me. Did he pester you to death?"

“I thought you didn’t want to know,” Wakatoshi replies evenly, careful to not betray his suspicion that Tendou had planted some unsavory ideas in Hinata’s head.

Hinata stumbles toward them and latches onto Wakatoshi for support, chirping a greeting at Tendou. Wakatoshi had told him they could reschedule, since their dinner reservation was the day after their escapade, but Hinata refused, not one to miss a chance to see Wakatoshi dress up and hang out with Wakatoshi’s wealthy, morally questionable best friend.

“You are a cruel man,” Tendou says with a pointed look at Wakatoshi’s crotch.

“You’re one to talk. And Shouyou is a glutton for punishment,” Wakatoshi replies, but the smile in his voice betrays his fondness for both of them, two different kinds monsters keen on his destruction.

**Author's Note:**

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